


I Dub Thee... Space Dad

by Ennazul



Series: Ennazul's Freebies [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Embarrassed Keith (Voltron), Flashbacks, Freudian Slip, Friendship, Gay Jokes, Gen, Keith and Shiro have a bonding moment, Lactose Intolerant Keith (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) is a Good Boy, Pillow Fight, Selfless Lance (Voltron), Shame, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Training, a really vicious pillow fight, broganes, team as a family, they're not so sure how siblings work, tired paladins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 12:26:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16284590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ennazul/pseuds/Ennazul
Summary: Keith accidentally calls a teammate something he shouldn't have. He gets away with it. Until he doesn't.A simple fic about familial love, with a sprinkle of angst, dedicated to the origin of the team's nickname for Shiro.(Set in Season 1, with real spoilers up to Season 2 and spoilers that shouldn't be considered spoilers because they are basic facts about Shiro that should have been introduced a long time ago *ends rant here* up to Season 7. You need to have watched the show to keep up in this fanfic.)





	I Dub Thee... Space Dad

**Author's Note:**

> Content Maturity Rating: All (worst thing that happens is the word g*dd*mn appears once)  
> Reading Difficulty Rating: 10+  
> Triggers: minor injury; hysteria; mentions of electrocution, disease, death and fire  
> Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender, spoilers for Seasons 1-7  
> Universe: Canon  
> Author: Ennazul  
> Copyright: Story universe and characters belong to Dreamworks. Ennazul reserves the right to the written work and plot only. No profit is made from this work.

It had been one of the harder days.

The days when the coast seemed clear according to the scanners, so Allura woke them up an hour early to get an extended training session done. Then when they were bone-tired, having pushed themselves beyond their limits and bruised or torn every muscle in their body (and looking like they could do with an hour or so in the healing pod each), the lights started flashing red to alert them to an incoming fleet and an inevitable battle.

Then of course they couldn't simply blast the galra into smithereens, but had to take the time to break into the largest ship to extract information that Pidge later announced was simply duplicates of what they already had, which only made them feel worse, and then they got caught in a dead end and had to barricade themselves against some highly bionic galra general with only the bodies of broken sentries serving as a wall.

Eventually, the lions landed back inside the castle, each paladin in one piece but not in very good shape.

Hunk had to carry a passed-out Pidge, who was brain-tired as well as body-tired after spending three hours remotely hacking into the galra's arm while under gunfire, to the control room, because everyone knew she would have spent the night in the Green Lion otherwise. But Hunk himself looked in danger of toppling over at any moment and crushing the smallest Paladin with his weight. Lance was trying to fool everyone into believing that the shot to his left leg hadn't burned between the plates of his armour, by putting on a smile that stiffened every time he put pressure on the leg. And Keith... well, he was moving on autopilot, unsure how his stiff legs were managing to shuffle forward but grateful that they were. He'd been unable to land a single hit on the galra, simply doing what he could to hold him off and give Pidge more time, in an endless rhythm of dodge, parry, shove; dodge, parry, shove...

Only Shiro didn’t seem a footstep away from collapsing, which none of them could comprehend because he’d fought just as ferociously as the rest of them, if not more. Spine straight as a soldier's, and with his shoulders proudly back, he ushered the others onward even as the floor called to them with promises of a very nice, long nap.

And finally, they got to their chairs, which were a lot bigger, softer and cosier than they remembered them being. Out of the corner of his eye, Keith spied Hunk dumping Pidge on hers like she was a sack of potatoes, then dragging himself to the Yellow Paladin's seat, which he flopped onto gracelessly before promptly passing out. Keith himself took a seat in the same stiff manner he always did, trying to be the headstrong and tough warrior he pretended to be. But he wasn’t any less exhausted, and had to rapidly blink and shake himself every half-minute just to pass for trying to stay awake, let alone actually listen to Allura's mission debriefing, which had dulled in his ears to white noise.

He wasn't sure how long it was that he was battling the urge to just stop existing for a few minutes, before he felt two strong, steady hands wrap over his shoulders and pull slightly, causing his supportive elbow to slide off the armrest, making his torso sag forward. "It's time to go to bed, Keith," a warm, baritone voice accompanied the caring touch.

Keith grumpily swatted the hands away, for a moment no longer a paladin, but a young boy trying to prove he could stay awake until midnight on New Year's Eve so his dad would take him to see the fireworks, yet found his eyelids falling shut at ten thirty to his dismay. "Not yet, Dad," he grumbled.

Then at once he fell back into his body, on board the Castleship. He shot straight up in his seat, suddenly wide awake, heart pounding in his chest and cheeks on fire as he scanned the room for any indication that he'd said that out loud.

Everyone was staring at him like he'd turned Galra.

Yep, he'd said it, alright.

Of all the expressions, Shiro's was the most unbearable to see, and it just had to be the closest to him- two feet in front of his face. Eyes wide, brows high, mouth slightly agape; shocked and scared and somehow concerned at the same time, like Keith was the one with the terminal illness. His hands were hovering above where he'd touched Keith, and it reminded Keith of that one time at his father's job (he could faintly recall his father saying it was 'Bring Your Kid To Work Day,' but he's pretty sure it was just because they were short on money for a babysitter at the time and the man wouldn't let Keith stay home alone after that one incident with the coyote) when they’d just put out a blazing shed, and a co-worker of his father's touched a live wire inside, then collapsed, shaking, the wire still clenched in his hands, while his father looked torn between trying to rip the wire from him and risking having two people stuck to the wire, or staying back and waiting for the man to potentially die. Eventually he made a decision- to push Keith out the room so he wouldn't get to see what happened, handing him over to other fire-fighters to remove Keith from the scene. Then he went back in.

His father never told him whether the co-worker had made it.

Shiro's choice was different, though. His face changed just the slightest bit, in sync with his mind, and Keith saw a terrified determination. Again, his mind supplied him with the image of his father with a similar expression, this time from half a year after the death shed- certain of his decision, and also certain that it won't turn out well. It was his final memory of his father- before he'd run into the burning house, and never came back out. "Keith-"

Keith turned his face into the chair, pinching his eyes close to keep out the lights and keep in the tears.

Then, in sharp contrast to the silence and the hurt, there was laughter.

Lance's laughter.

Keith's emotions soured. Lance dared to laugh at him for it? So what if he thought Shiro's presence was so alike to his father's? So what if he'd slipped up once and disrespected their leader? Hadn't he already embarrassed himself enough? Was it really called for to get laughed at?

The Blue Paladin was clutching his stomach, pointing their way, unable to keep his eyes open for a few seconds as he guffawed. "Oh- oh my gosh! You're right, Shiro is totally the dad of the team!" He feigned wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "Who knew Mullet had a sense of humour?"

Wait... Lance wasn't laughing at him. He was laughing at _Shiro_.

What was more; he'd drawn all the attention in the room to himself. Keith had never been more grateful for Lance's obnoxious, annoying loudness.

"Oh? Ohhhhh! Keith was being sarcastic?" Hunk suddenly chimed in. He looked at Keith, shrugging. "Sorry, buddy, but you always sound sarcastic to me so it's hard to tell when you're really being, y'know?" He chuckled lightly, hand on his belly. "Whew. Funny. And to think I thought you said it by accident."

"What, like a 'calling your teacher Mom' moment?" Lance asked. "That was like my biggest fear in middle school."

"Yeah and it's not just because you messed up, but because the whole class starts laughing at you, too- that just really drives in the knife," Hunk agreed.

As the Yellow and Blue Paladins shared stories across the room, Pidge continued to squint through her glasses in Keith's direction, but it could have simply been because she was too tired to follow the conversation and was simply staring into the void.

Shiro finally seemed to recover from whatever frozen stupor he'd been caught up in. He straightened up. "Tomorrow's a new day, Paladins, and we best be prepared for it. Time to go to bed and rest up. Pidge, are you going to make it?"

"Yeah-yeah," she waved off, boosting herself off the chair, before letting out a big yawn.

"Pidge, be nice to your Space Dad!" Lance quipped. "Say goodnight properly!"

The Green Paladin gave a tiny, evil smirk as she walked towards the door, and in the passing she patted Shiro's arm. "G'night, Daddy-o," she hummed, causing Shiro's face to go as white as a sheet.

Lance and Hunk burst into laughter anew. "I can't believe she actually said it!" Lance gasped when he found the breath to.

"Well I'm hitting the hay, too," Hunk announced, sliding off his seat. "Good night, Space Dad!"

Then there were only three left in the room.

Nobody was moving.

"...Aren't you tired, Lance?" Shiro asked the Blue Paladin, who still showed no signs of planning to get out of his seat.

"Oh?" Lance asked, looking like he words hadn't processed. "Oh. Oh yeah, I may have put this off for a little long, but... Yeah, I may or may not need a healing pod? For an hour or three?"

Shiro sighed in exasperation, hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. This wasn't the first time Lance had hidden an injury. "Couldn't you have brought it up while the princess and Coran were still in here?"

"...I forgot."

"Well then let Coran know. If you hurry you can catch him before he gets in bed. I'd put you in a pod myself, but I'm not that good with Altean just yet, and I don't want to accidentally freeze you for ten thousand years."

"I know the sequence," Lance insisted. "I just need somebody to push the On button once I’m inside. Besides, Coran always wants to do a full-scale check-up and my tonsils do _not_ need checking."

"Fine. Let's go." Shiro began to follow Lance towards the door, but paused for a moment to turn his head back partway to Keith. He seemed to consider something, and was just shifting again when Lance called him over with a, "C'mon, _Padre,_ I'm bleeding here!"

Keith didn't even realize he'd held his breath until the door sealed behind him, and he let it out all at once. Lance didn't know it, but he'd saved Keith's skin. Or at least, had given him a bit more time to think of a story that would make Shiro _stop looking at him like that._ Deep down he knew it was inevitable that they'd talk about it, but for the night he just wanted to forget that it ever happened.

 

He wasn't given that luxury.

Shiro knocked at his door before Keith even had his boots off. "Who is it?" Keith grumbled, even though he knew.

"Can I come in, Keith?"

Keith sighed. _Guess this has to happen._ "Yeah, whatever," he muttered, throwing himself onto the bed, face to the wall.

He heard the slide of the door opening, then the click-clack of boots on metal. The mattress changed shape as Shiro sat on the side. "Look at me?"

Keith rolled onto his back, head falling to the side to glare at Shiro as heartlessly as he could, hoping that the Black Paladin would understand Keith bore no familial connection to anyone. Ever. Not since his dad passed. Not to his foster parents, not to the team, and certainly not to Shiro.

"...You didn't mean it as a joke, did you?" Shiro carefully asked.

Keith refused to give any answer, not moving as much as a muscle.

"And it wasn't by accident, either."

"Of course it was an accident," Keith bit, crossing his arms over his chest. "What else would it be? I just decided to start calling you that as some weak joke, like the others did?"

" _I mean_ that you didn't just slip up and use the wrong word, like using 'mom' instead of 'ma'am'," Shiro elaborated. "Right?"

Keith huffed, blowing a lock of his fringe out of his face. "...Maybe."

"Keith." Keith could tell the final blow was coming next. He tensed in preparation for it. "Do you see me as a father figure?"

No. He wasn't answering that. Keith's fingers found the pillow, and curled tightly around it.

* * *

 

Keith was being stubborn and withdrawn, and somewhat of a hothead. That was nothing new. But still Shiro didn’t expect the simple words to cause the reaction they did. Nor did he think it was called for, but Keith’s anger issues had made him a special case since the Garrison.

In one quick move that Shiro couldn’t see until it had already happened, Keith ripped the pillow from under his head and smacked it across Shiro's face, doing as much damage as a pillow could do. Belatedly, Shiro felt the sharp sting over his left cheek. "GET OUT!"

"Whoa! K- Keith!" Shiro tried to grab for the pillow, but Keith was experienced with using anything at his disposal as a weapon. He used every reach from Shiro as an opening to strike the opposite side, using his feet to shove the older man away. Shiro had to admit that despite having a size and strength disadvantage Keith was holding up his own, but it wasn't the time for complimenting his battle tactics. Definitely not when he was using them against a teammate in any scenario other than training.

"GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT!" Keith screeched, every word punctuated by a dodge or a strike.

"Keith, stop this!" Eventually Shiro got a grasp on both Keith's wrists, pinning his hands and, by extent, the pillow, to the bed. "Keith! There's nothing to fight me for!"

The boy's legs were still in the fight even if his arms weren't, leaving bruises on Shiro's ribs and thighs. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" Keith's wet and cracking voice and the tremor of his hands betrayed him- he wasn't angry.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Keith." Shiro changed tactics. His arms snaked under Keith's back, and before Keith could stop him, he'd pulled the fiery Red Paladin to his chest, clamping his arms to his sides in a tight hug. "Nobody thinks badly of you for it. Don't be ashamed. You did nothing wrong."

Keith continued to squirm under his hold, his yelling and screeching dulling as he gave in, giving way to whimpers and hiccups as Shiro continued to whisper reassurances in his ear, the raging wildfire in his arms dwindling to become nothing more than smoking embers. Shiro eased up on his hold, and Keith's arms broke free, only to wrap around him to return the hug. Keith's face buried in his shoulder as he shook with each sob.

Shiro shifted the position of his hands, using one to pat Keith's back while the other stroked the top of his head, and Keith melted in his hold, sobbing even louder and burrowing deeper as if ashamed. "Hey, buddy, it's okay," Shiro soothed. He repeated the words like a mantra, until Keith's crying eased up. Then he drew back slowly, placing his hands on Keith's shoulders like he had in the control room earlier, hoping that he could tie the ends together and just forget everything that happened in the middle. They had to work through this. "Keith. I'm honoured that you look up to me so much."

Keith's head hung low, his fringe a veil between them. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, and gave a wet sniff.

"I'm honoured that you've opened up to me in a way that most people only ever look up to family," Shiro continued. "I'm honoured to _be_ your family, Keith. You aren’t wrong to see me that way- I see you that way, too."

The Red Paladin opened his mouth as if to speak, but ended up just taking a breath in. He raised his head slowly, dark blue eyes meeting slate grey. No tears were visible, but Keith's face had gone red around the eyes and pale on the cheeks, and his sclera shone just the slightest bit yellow, like they always did when he became upset.

Shiro smiled softly in encouragement. He didn't want to make Keith afraid of watching his face while he spoke. "But I'm only seven years older than you," he reminded the boy. "And frankly, I'm not ready to be a dad yet." He chuckled a bit at the thought (him, as an adult, with kids- now there was a joke!) but Keith didn't follow suit. Instead, Keith broke eye contact, not ducking his head again but instead letting his irises drift to the corner of the room.

"I get it," Keith murmured with a shattered voice that stabbed through Shiro's heart. His hands pulled onto his lap, and he looked down at them as he circled his thumbs over his index fingers. "Don't worry. I won't call you that again."

"Hey." Shiro lightly swayed Keith by the shoulders, encouraging him to look back at him again. When he did, Shiro said, "Let's say I'm your big brother instead." He grinned. "Your really cool big brother who's in the military and can deadlift two tonnes."

Finally Keith huffed out two breaths that counted as a laugh in Shiro's book. "Yeah, maybe in zero-gravity you can!" he quipped, shoving Shiro's shoulder playfully. He looked to the ground again, this time with a smile. "Brothers sounds good. I've never had a brother before."

"Neither have I. We're both new at this, but we'll work it out together."

Keith shrugged as an afterthought. "I mean, I've had to share a room or a house with lots of kids, but I hated them all."

"That's apparently how siblings are."

"In that case, we can't be." Keith met Shiro's eye. "I don't think I could ever hate you." And there was so much sincerity and dedication in that gaze, Shiro had to deflect the mood.

"Oh? What about when I take your ice cream away?" The boy had zero concern for his own lactose intolerance, and at the Garrison Shiro often had to rescue him from himself. He would put up almost as much a fight about it as he had only moments before.

"...Yeah, I might hate you a little bit then."

Shiro grinned smugly. "Or when I give you a noogie after a mission." He reached out to deliver one on the spot, but Keith ducked it.

"Then I really, really hate you," he grumbled, pushing the arm as far from his head as he could.

They both chuckled, then sat for a few moments in silent company.

"You know..." Shiro slowly began. "The whole team has got that love-hate relationship going on. In a way, we're all a family. We can fight each other, but we keep gravitating back to one another again. You might not think it, but they're all your siblings, too." That was a positive ending to a difficult conversation, and he patted himself on the back for it- looks like the white hair was doing its job and allowing him to tap into some much-needed wisdom. He got up before he could do something to screw up the delicate mending he'd managed to do, and walked to the door. If there was one thing he'd learned as an 'adult,' it was when it was the right time to walk away from something.

"Yeah," Keith replied somewhat belatedly, when Shiro reached the door. "You're right. We're all brothers and sister."

Shiro turned back to him as the door slid open, nodding, smiling goodnight. As the door began to close, he pointed a thumb at himself, saying, "But I'm the cool one!" before slipping away.

* * *

 

Keith scowled, throwing the pillow at the now-closed door. "Get out!"

"I'm already out!" he heard, muffled, through the closed door.

"That better not be another goddamn gay joke!" He fell back onto the bed, and then groaned when he realized he would have to cross the entire room to get his pillow. He'd just gone through an exhausting experience and honestly he'd rather use his boot as a pillow than get up at that moment.

He stared up at the ceiling of his bunk, but he didn’t see the cold grey metal. He smiled to himself.

Family. He had a _family_.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you like it? If you want to read more of my Voltron fics, just click on Next Work or Previous Work.


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